Interlude V

Annalisa’s Guide to the Deck of Wills

Having mentioned my partner in many of my letters, I have been neglectful in explaining the details of his fortune magic, with which I have become quite familiar. I daresay I could teach a proper class on them at the school what sits on top of the hill where the students all wear dresses.

The short primer is as follows: the Deck of Wits is divided into suits and non-suited cards who did not fit neatly into with the others. Perhaps the unsuitable cards are ill-tempered to get along with the rest, or perhaps they are too big for properly tailored suits, but I have met a dragon and she was unexpectedly well-mannered and fashionable. Darcent seems to have trouble reaching them, and mainly uses four of what he calls ‘inverted suits’, though he’s been right-side up all but one time when I’ve seen him use them.

There are ten of these card clubs, each beholden to a leader of their own. Lances, Towers, Dragons, Petals, Streams, Knaves, Storms Peaks, Demons, and Ways. My partner can use any of these cards to draw fortunes from the deck, which is how I know I’ll win fights before the first blow is struck. He insists that these cards can’t see the future, but anyone can see the future if they simply look down the road they’re walking on and decide if they’re going into the bakery or the pub. I don’t see why cards should be any different if the deck knows which cards will be flipped before the question is asked. It would be simpler to just look ahead, I imagine. But that would damage the ‘mystique’ my partner has used to enshroud himself.

From some of these cards, a Soul Seeker can draw power. But only once they reveal truths about themselves to bond with more cards, and only with up to four of the suitable cards.

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My partner has bound himself to four of the suits of Wits: the Knaves, Dragons, Towers, and Storms which I’m given to understand from Mithra are closely associated with skullduggery, greed, aloofishness, and anal retentive tendencies. This seems apt, so I have no reason to doubt her wisdom. It is fortunate that I am the face of most of our dealings, because he does not come across as the trust-worthy type and you must dig deep—very deep—to recognize his merits upon first meeting.

Of the suit of Kaves, my partner has mastered four of the spells. He can make blades extremely sharp, but brittle. He can create a living shadow of himself that takes true form and moves independently. He can speak across distances in the same way that the plane-touched do, and he can abscond with the alacrity of others.

Of the suit of Dragons, my partner can summon a gout of flame from his mouth, provide me with a dragon juice that grants me a portion of his own power, sense the true value of items, and summon a nice horned lady that commits arson and has implied that my partner ought be able to change his form (though he does not seem over-weight to me).

Regarding the suit of Towers, things become slightly more confusing. He can make skin as hard as stone, but another card helped him to read a book (perhaps much reading is done in towers?) and after that he could draw magic graffiti.

Lastly, the suit of storms can be used to stuff spells back into wands, with disastrous results for the holder of said wand—as I witnessed upon meeting a helpful wildkin in Kindledown who has since helped us with our exploration of the undercity.

He can also move cards with his mind and spin them like the fans some of the girls at the Mop dance with. He once used this to blow a great deal of toxic air away, but it attracted the attention of a monster most foul, so I have doubts as to its application. A card thrown with much force might embed itself into an unfortunate thug, and can be called back to the rest of the deck like a well-trained dog, which has confounded many a foe in our adventures. We have acquired the badges of adventurers, but even they do not know what to make of my companion or I. I have taken matters into my own hands on that front, so that my badge reminds me of the heights of which I intend to climb with my partner’s help.

With much Love,

Annalisa of Dunnemarsh